


Dolor

by Hooda



Series: Anthology [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back
Genre: Angst, Luke is Force sensitive to grief around base, Major character death - Freeform, Missions Gone Wrong, Sad, how will RebelCaptain react, jyn likes to pull stunts that are pretty cool but dangerous, no one really knows what was really between Jyn and Cassian after being the sole survivors of Scarif, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 06:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10679202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hooda/pseuds/Hooda
Summary: Part of the tragedy was that he had sunk so far into the shadows of the Alliance that no one had remembered him. There were no solemn faces of sympathy when she passed people in the halls. There was no weight of a comrade lost in the face of the Intelligence officer who is sent to drop off the box of meager personal effects to her room._______Jyn grieves; one-shot





	Dolor

**Author's Note:**

> Dont hate me; I wanted to try something new that wasn't all happy endings - H:/

Part of the tragedy was that he had sunk so far into the shadows of the Alliance that no one had remembered him. There were no solemn faces of sympathy when she passed people in the halls. There was no weight of a comrade lost in the face of the Intelligence officer who is sent to drop off the box of meager personal effects to her room.

It dawned on Jyn quietly as she lay on top of the blankets of her bed - no one but her would remember the way his eyes could light of seeing falling snow, or how his accent would sometimes curl over his  _ rrrrrr’s  _ in a manner that had Jyn pushing him against the wall one time, hands hungry for skin and lips burning with promises.

_______

They have never witnessed a more collected form of grief.

Nothing could match the ruthless energy that tore through their sergeant during the first missions after the news was delivered. Her orders are clipped and directive, less warmth in her tone and more validity to her movements.

The grief is palpable.

It leaves traces throughout her movements; in the way she brushes at her eyes some early mornings, dark rings under her eyes and a pallor from lack of proper rest; in the way she wraps a few knuckles after a session spent sparring endlessly in the training facilities against other sergeants and lieutenants; in the way she holds Kes’ arm like a vice in the quiet dull before the storm of battle, a silent reminder that there are still people who are alive and with her.

It leaves Luke cringing when he feels her presence the first day he is back on base from a flight mission. With the Force becoming more like a sixth sense as the weeks progress, the young pilot begins to feel for the pain and scars that litter the rebellion’s soldiers spiritually. He could sink deep into the waves of meditation and peruse the blank expanses of Hoth that is riddled with pockets of lifeforms, each carrying bundles of nerves that are grief and hopes.

Jyn’s in particular carries on her heavier than anyone else Luke has yet to come across. Her pain runs deep, rooted to the Kyber around her neck and to the blaster that has been strapped to her hip since her arrival to the Alliance, hours after Wobani.

“How close were Jyn and the Major,” he asks one evening as Wedge and Leia meet him for mealtime in the halls just beyond the hangars. His tan flight suit prickles around his neck uncomfortably. Leia warms a little at the gleaming curiosity in Luke’s expression.

Wedge thrusts his hands into his pockets and sighs. “Not sure. They pulled through a hell of a mission to get those Death Star plans. But Andor was a  _ mighty _ private person; hell, I never knew he existed until just a few months ago.”

“For someone that was in her life for so little time, I think the Major’s death affects her more than you’d realize,” Luke tells Leia privately after mealtime. Her brilliantly white jacket reflects harshly off the white lights that line above their heads.

“Then we need to keep an eye out on her, just in case,” Leia tells him.

_______

The only part of Cassian that comes home is a set of dog tags, a blue parka that smells of blaster fire and covered in red sand, and a commlink with its wires torn out.

He never receives a proper burial.

_______

She never wears the blue parka for herself. Instead, it hangs on the hook attached to the back of her door. Like the Kyber that dangles around her neck, it serves as a reminder to Jyn that her life is not one to be doted upon with attachments.

The Kyber is a reminder of her mother’s decision to go back for her father instead of saving Jyn. 

It only seems fitting that the parka be a reminder of Cassian’s dedication to the rebellion before anyone else, even before Jyn.

She stares at it, eyes wet from the night terrors that shake her awake. Its sleeves hang limply at the sides of the part that cover the torso, white stripes dulled with grime from the last fight its owner fought through.

_______

Their mission is compromised the minute the locals turn on them. The ship is still miles away from where they are cornered, its pilot awaiting orders nervously and gearing the engines in case he has to fly low over the rooftops of the patchwork city to pluck them off a rooftop.

“Climb!” Naona growls as Kes and Jyn round the corner, Yael and Shvekos right behind them. The sounds of the Stormtroopers marching and their shouting spurs them on, adrenaline pulsing and blasters pulled out at the ready.

“Come on, climb!” Kes calls, grabbing a gutter and hoisting himself against the wall. The street they turned onto was unfortunately an alley; if they did not move quick enough, it would soon become their grave. Yael tucks her blaster into the waistband of her pants, but sticks the handle of a vibroblade between her teeth like a stick for a hound as she wedges her boot into a dent in the metal wall to start her ascent.

Shvekos follows right after, Naona and Jyn seconds behind.

Kes reaches out his arms to help hoist them up quicker when he gets to the roof.

For a moment, they stand on top of the world. The single sun beats down on them from the distant horizon, bloody red from the sunset. It paints their faces red: wild.

A shadow passes over their heads and the shriek of engines slowing into a careful descent howls into their ears. The hatch door of the ship hisses open mid-air.

Shouts rise from the alley below. A fire red bolts fly through the air towards the Partisan’s escape ship. Kes shouts for everyone to start getting on board.

But before they can reach for the lowering hatch, a blast hits the side of the ship. It lurches mid-air for a few seconds before balancing out over their heads again. Kes pulls them up one by one onto the ledge of the building facing away from the gunfire and orders them on board. More shots from the ground fire upward, some hitting the hull senselessly while other larger cannon blasts threaten to topple it to the ground.

“Jyn, come on!” Kes cries, hair whipping furiously across his forehead and his jacket threatening to tear itself from his body. Her hands close around the last of the few bombs she brought on the mission that were clipped securely to her belt across her waist, fingers caressing the smoothness of the explosives.

The sun hung in the horizon, red and furious all at once.

The ship lurches from another hit. Kes swears and helps Aaron on board next.

“ _ Jyn - NO! _ ”

But it was too late to stop her when she takes off for the edge of the building where the blaster fire comes from, grenades in hand. Her foot pushes off the ledge.

For a moment, time seems to slow down. The white of the Stormtrooper uniforms beneath her flash gloriously in the light of the setting sun, their faces turned up to see her at the last second. They are too slow to scatter when the grenade lands amongst them.

Her torso hits the edge of the parallel rooftop. She can barely culp for air through the cracking in her ribs, the effort to pull the rest of her body over to meager safety draining her. Black spots flash across her vision and the blast of the explosion below warms her from behind. There were screams and shots fired, but she did not look down.

Her chest rises and falls brokenly, incapable of pulling complete gasps of air into her lungs. When she touches her side, Jyn feels the biting gape of blaster fire across her side. Her other hand reaches for the dog tags slung around her neck. Her blood sinks into the grooves of Cassian's name.

Someone screams her name, their voice clouded through the hush filling her ears. It washes over her senses like no adrenaline rush could. For once, her entire body relaxes.

The darkness pulls harder.

_______

It was quicker than falling asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments - pos or neg! - H:)


End file.
